


Keelhauled

by GloamingMage



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Exhibitionism, Humiliation, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19097167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloamingMage/pseuds/GloamingMage
Summary: Eridan Ampora, captain of the Archangel, has been tailing the pirate ship the Poltergeist for months now. When he finally catches up to them, he gets a bit more than he had bargained for.





	Keelhauled

A white flag sailed above _the Archangel,_ whipped back and forth by John's winds. He lowered his arms and let the breeze slow to a gentle caress. A relieved breath escaped him. _The Archangel_ was double their size, a masterwork of Dersite artistry and brutality. It was only by cheating, bending the breeze to his will and fighting dirty that John and his crew of rogues and scoundrels managed to bring her down.

And bring her down they did. John wore a wicked grin as he strode across the gangplank. Vriska followed barely a step behind, wanting to share in the glory and gloating. _The Archangel's_ captain stood tall on the upper deck, regarding John with a stern glare. For the moment, he still had his pride. That would change.

John struggled to recall Rose's counsel and eventually matched a name to a face. Captain Eridan Ampora was the name of his defeated enemy, the one who had sought to bring John and his crew to justice. He had failed, over and over again. This was the closest he had ever gotten. Righteous indignation mingled with satisfaction at John's improbable victory. He fully intended to teach this prickly privateer a lesson.

“Captain Ampora!” John said, spreading his arms wide in greeting. “Bet you didn’t see this one coming, did you?”

Eridan’s lips curled into a sneer so vicious John was almost impressed. “If you think this game of ours is over, you’re foolin’ yourself,” he said. “You’ll have to kill me, or else I won’t rest until I see each one a’ you scum hang.”

John and Vriska shared a look and a raucous laugh. “Do you really think we’re going to put you out of your misery?” Vriska said. “Hell no!”

“But if you’re going to keep chasing us anyway, we might as well give you another reason to hate us,” John said. He strode across the deck until he and Eridan were nose-to-nose. Eridan was taller than him and looked down at him with such disdain that John knew he would enjoy what he was about to do.

John waved a hand imperiously, and Equius hurried to his side. “Search him,” John said, and Equius obeyed. Stern and slightly damp, Equius patted Eridan down. He allowed it, if only because his crew was in no shape to fight, although he maintained the attitude of a prince being harangued by a swarm of flies. John couldn’t wait to break him of that.

Equius confiscated from Eridan an ornate rapier, a pistol with a mother-of-pearl handle, and no less than three knives; one in his boot, one at his belt, and one strapped under his shirt. Equius wiped his brow with the back of his hand. John held out his hand for the pistol. It fit elegantly against his palm, the trigger cradled by his finger. “Oh this,” he said. “This is lovely! Must be a family heirloom, or at least obscenely expensive.”

Despite himself, there was a distinct note of pride in Eridan’s voice when he said, “You’ve never sneezed near so fine a weapon.”

“You’re probably right!” John said. “I’ll live like a prince for a day after I sell it. But first…” He pressed the muzzle of the pistol to Eridan’s chest. “Go and stand by the mast.”

Any new anger Eridan might have felt was a raindrop in a raging sea. He turned toward the mast, his head held up high. He walked with all the grace of a spoiled cat. John watched his hips sway as he followed, keeping the pistol pressed between Eridan’s shoulder blades.

_The Poltergeist’s_ crew had gathered in a loose circle around the mast. _The Archangel’s_ spirit was broken; they didn’t expect any resistance. More importantly, they wanted a front row seat to what happened next.

John got Eridan up against the mast, his hands pressed against rough wood. Eridan turned his head to glare at John over his shoulder. John’s smile never faltered, and the pistol never strayed from where it was pointed at Eridan’s back.

“Tie him up,” John said, and Equius, as always, rushed to obey. He looped rope around each of Eridan’s wrists in turn, then cinched them together, securing them with a sturdy knot. He bound them to the mast above Eridan’s head, leaving him with his arms up and his back to his crew. He tugged at his binds on impulse, but they held fast. Only then did John tuck the pistol into his coat.

“You’ve been a real pain in my ass, you know that?” John said. “I’m just going to return the favor.” He snapped his fingers at Equius who, sweat beading across his brow, placed a small glass vial in John’s palm. John tucked it into his pocket.

“You don’t scare me, bottomfeeder,” Eridan said, and John couldn’t tell whether or not he was lying. It didn’t truly matter.

“I don’t care,” John said. “I’m still going to make you scream.”

Eridan quickly looked away, his hands clenching around nothing. John wondered if he was imagining the shiver that crept through his defeated enemy.

Eridan wore a handsome violet coat, the uniform of a revered officer in Derse’s navy. It was hemmed at his mid-thigh. John tossed the tail of the coat out of the way; beneath was a pair of tight black pants that worked wonders for Eridan’s ass. John gave it a thorough fondle. He was leaning close enough that he could hear Eridan’s breath catch in his throat. He could see just a hint of a flush creeping down Eridan’s neck.

John unfastened Eridan’s belt and pulled down his pants and undergarments, letting them tangle around his knees. John dragged his nails back up Eridan’s thighs, and this time he knew he didn’t imagine seeing him shiver.

“You may or may not enjoy this,” John said. “Our crews definitely will. You’re unfairly pretty, has anyone ever told you that? I wish you were facing me. I wish I could see what your face looks like when you’re not so brave and uppity. Oh well, maybe next time.”

*”Fuck,”* Eridan breathed, so soft he probably hadn’t meant to say it at all. John’s eyes gleamed with delight.

John leaned in even closer, pressing a kiss to Eridan’s throat. He could feel the privateer’s pulse flutter beneath his lips. Eridan tried to twist away. John threaded a hand through his hair and yanked his head back. Eridan growled, low and thrilling, and John bit down hard.

“Get on with it!” Vriska shouted. John rolled his eyes, but she had a point. He retrieved the vial from his pocket, uncorked it, drizzled oil onto his fingers. He tucked the vial away again, freeing one hand to knead at Eridan’s ass while his lubed-up fingers stroked between his cheeks.

Eridan’s back went rigid, and he began to writhe against his bonds. “Fuck!” Eridan said. “Fuck, godfucking damn it I swear on my life I’ll kill all a’ you with my own hands!”

“You’re so cute when you squirm,” John said, and Eridan suddenly went very still. He peered back over his shoulder instead, and John could see murder in his stormy eyes. Hot.

John pressed his fingers inside, and he was treated to the sight of Eridan biting his lip and quickly looking away. He was impossibly tight, likely on account of being so tense. He’d feel like heaven, and John was determined to make him enjoy it as well.

John curled his fingers in a come-hither motion and hit the jackpot. A shudder wracked Eridan’s body, and he only just concealed a needy sound. His arms flexed as they strained against their bonds, but Equius’s knots held firm.

Now, John had many flaws. Lack of skill with his hands was not among them. These hands had made Rose gasp and shudder despite her best efforts to remain aloof, Dave’s rambling degenerate into incoherency, Vriska shout and curse and demand more, Equius abandon all propriety. John had magic hands, and right now his fingers circled Eridan’s prostate until the captive captain was panting, shaking his head, his hips jerking as he couldn’t decide whether to squirm away or ask for more. When John withdrew his fingers, Eridan made a mournful sound.

When Eridan turned back to glare at John, his face was flushed to the tips of his ears, and his eyes were burning. He didn’t trust himself to speak, but his eyes said ‘I’m going to enjoy killing you’ or ‘Next time we meet I’m going to mount you on my cock’ or both all at once.

John smacked his ass and Eridan howled with rage.

Eridan thrashed and cursed as John wiped excess lube off on his coat. John quickly unfastened his own trousers, which had become uncomfortably tight. He fished out his cock, which was so hard it ached. Eridan was about to feel it, first sandwiched between his cheeks, then prodding at his tight hole.

In one smooth motion, John sank inside. Eridan failed to bite back a groan. _The Poltergeist’s_ crew cheered. John sighed out a moan, his breath hot against the back of Eridan’s neck. Eridan struggled to keep his breathing steady; he might have succeeded until John pulled out and rocked back in. John’s cock dragged against his prostate, and Eridan moaned aloud.

“Ha!” John said. “I knew you’d like this. Do you let just any criminal tie you up and fuck you in front of your crew?”

“When I’m through with you there’ll be nothin’ left to hang,” Eridan spat.

“Hot,” John said, then leaned in to capture Eridan’s lips in a kiss. Eridan bit down hard, making John yelp. He slapped Eridan’s ass again, leaving matching red handprints on either cheek. Eridan shuddered, then melted into the kiss, and John cooed with delight.

“Oh my god,” shouted Vriska. “We didn’t wreck this ship so you could make goo-goo eyes at him! Just give it to him already!”

Eridan growled, and John laughed. Neither of them were friendly sounds. Well, John simply had to give the underlings what they wanted. He gripped Eridan’s hips and slammed into him. Eridan whimpered for John’s ears only. That would do at all. John set up a demanding pace, aiming for Eridan’s sweet spot. He knew when he found it. Eridan let out a strangled cry, his body shaking, and John didn’t let up.

John used Eridan like the bound plaything he was. Soon John was panting, heat pooling in his abdomen as Eridan massaged his cock. He was so turned on he could barely stay standing, and Eridan was worse. All his desire to remain stoic was no match for John gleefully hammering his prostate. Eridan slumped in his bonds, propped up by the mast and John’s iron grip. The whole _Archangel_ watched as their captain was taken to pieces, his legs shaking, his cock leaking, his face flushed as moans spilled from his lips.

John sank in to the hilt and stayed there. His orgasm rocked through him, and he clung to Eridan as he spilled deep inside of him, filling Derse’s prized captain with his hot seed. Eridan let out a moan of mixed pleasure and dismay, and John grinned, nuzzling his throat.

Eridan lifted up his foot and brought his heel down hard on John’s toe. John shrieked, stumbling back, his face twisting into a scowl. “Brat,” he said, tucking himself into his trousers and fixing his clothes in place.

“John,” Eridan said, horror dawning as he realized that John meant to leave him there with a weeping erection and cum dripping down his thighs.

John’s smile returned. He leaned in close, his breath brushing Eridan’s ear. “Come and find me again,” he said. And then he was gone, taking his crew and his ship and vanishing back over the horizon.

A sheepish soldier came to free Eridan from his bonds. He fixed his clothes, smoothed his hair back into place, and watched _the Poltergeist_ drift away until it was barely a dot between the sea and the sky. Rage burned in Eridan’s chest, so bright and hot that he couldn’t contain it. He turned away from the railing and roared for his men to “Follow that blasted ship!”


End file.
